Snowflakes
by Lyall Fidelis
Summary: How one mage is affected by the declaration of war on the Templars. One-Shot inspired by the ending of Dragon Age: Asunder. You don't have to read the book to know what's going on in this story.


**Created after reading Dragon Age: Asunder. You don't have to read the book to know what is going on in this story but- *Spoilers* The short story about how one mage take the decision that Rhys has made for the mages at Andoral's Reach.**_  
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><p><em>Blood. <em>The thick red vile filled the air and stained his robes. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be easier. That's what he kept telling himself. Alen was one of the many Libertarian's in the Nevarran circle. He had traveled along with his First Enchanter to the College meeting in Cumberland. The entire place was left in shambles; Mages taking their last breath and giving up all hope in casting any healing spells to mend their wounds. It was useless. They were dead as it was, and if they weren't, they were dead soon enough.

The Seekers and Templars would not give up the fight. Even now, as they declared war for freedom in Andoral's Reach, he could still see the blood staining his hands. And it would not go away. How much would it take to prove that they were worthy of walking among the people and not treated like diseased animals? How much would it take to test his faith as an Andrastian? No, he wasn't devout, but what if he chose to be? Would that be taken away as well since they were now going against the Maker? Alen always believed in the cause of the Libertarians. He always thought that there was change to be had and no one else understood it. But this? War? Could he, in all good faith, take part in such a heinous crime?

He heard footsteps approach him from behind. Slowly, Alen turned to the foreign sound. He forced a small smile on his face as he saw one of his old friends approach him. "Ah. Katelyn. I didn't expect to see you here."

Katelyn smiled, her dark brown hair framing her perfect elven features. Her skin was unusually pale for an elf, but she was inside most of her life, not frolicking through the fields like her people were rumored to do. Her robes were of an apprentice, though she had gone through her Harrowing a long time ago. Funny thing with elves is that you can never tell how old they are just by looking at them. He was near his mid thirties, himself, and he knew Katelyn was not far behind him.

"Yes, I was able to get out before the chaos began. I bring news that they may be invoking the Right of Annulment on our circle. We can't go back now, Alen," she said, an almost pleased expression on her face.

"Did it really have to end this way," Alen sighed, looking over at the group around a large old tree. They were mourning the loss of a friend. Katelyn stepped closer, lightly grasping his shoulder.

"I thought this is what you wanted. Your entire time at the circle has been talk about gaining your freedom again. Like how you used to be before you were caught."

Alen was forced into the circle after a group of fisherman caught him using magic to catch more fish. He was forcing them out of the water using a push spell. The look of shame upon his father's face when he saw that he had been caught was etched into his memory. He was only fifteen then. Too young to run and survive on his own, but too old to claim he didn't know what he was doing. Alen thanked the Maker every day that he did not see his own mother ending up next to him in the circle. His father would never do that to her, but he had to for his son if he were to keep his job to pay for the rest of the family. It was out of necessity, and Alen knew this, therefore he never held it against the man. But it didn't mean he enjoyed the experience. If what Katelyn said was true about the Rite of Annulment being invoked on the circle, that meant that being anywhere near there wasn't safe. His mother, his little sisters, all in danger. All probably dead at the hands of a templar. The fear of mages made people irrational, so all those people that his father had trusted to keep their secret had most likely went screaming to the Templars once the warrants had been issued. Everything he loved was gone.

"Now that it's all happening; now that it is all said and decided… I'm not sure I want to do this anymore," Alen cast his eyes downward, sighing heavily and slumping his shoulders. He shrugged of Katelyn's hand and began to walk towards the edge of the cliff that Andoral's Reach sat upon. The sun was setting, a rainbow of reds and oranges decorated the sky and danced off of the clouds. Light played gleefully off of the flakes of snow that were being cast down from the clouds. It was cold, but Alen was feeling too numb to notice.

Katelyn shuffled through the snow, a dull crunching could be heard as she pressed down in the fresh layers. She stopped next to him as he stood near the edge. Her eyes darted up towards him, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking. "So what do you want, Alen?" Her voice was small and unknowing of what he was going to do. What he was going to say. She reached her small hand out and grasped his lightly. A small surge of happiness went through her as she felt his fingers wrap around hers.

"I want to be free." He stared distantly out towards the mountains, where the sun would lay in wait until the moon was finished it's rounds. The snow trickled down, coating his auburn hair until it was white. Katelyn gripped his hand tighter, a lump forming in her throat.

"But, you are going to be free. If we win this war, we will all be free," she said, her words barely penetrating his haze.

"No," his voice was barely a whisper, so small the wind could carry it away. "We will never be free. We will never be equal. Not here, anyway."

"Then where?" She felt his grasp loosen as he pulled his hand away from hers.

"At the Maker's side."

Katelyn frantically reached out for him as Alen took another step towards the edge. Her fingers barely grazed his robe as he fell forward. Alen plunged into the darkness falling like the snowflakes surrounding him, the blue of his robes was barely visible for a few moments until it was all lost. Katelyn sat at the edge of the cliff, her face being stained with tears that froze in the cold air. She let out a wail of sobs, rocking herself back and forth in comfort.

An hour later she made her way back into the shambling building. It felt like an odd representation of her life, of all mage's lives. The building was torn apart, but still tried to hold steady, though the winds and weather always managed to force their way through. The floor was wet from the body heat melting the snow that came in from the shameful thing they called a roof. As she grew closer to the crowd that was within the hold, an old elven woman in a white robe came up to her. "Where is Alen," the Grand Enchanter asked, looking around expectantly. "I have a message from his sisters. They are on their way and they want him to meet them."

Katelyn shook her head slowly, choking back another wave of sobs. "He is free."


End file.
